


Can't Sleep?

by B_Uthoughtwrong



Series: Geralt, The Witcher, In Domestic Bliss... Kinda [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Almost smut, Alternate Universe, Cuddly!Geralt, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Insomnia, Mentions of jaskier, Reader-Insert, Smut, genderless reader, soft hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Uthoughtwrong/pseuds/B_Uthoughtwrong
Summary: Geralt finishes a job and comes back battered and bloody. His heavy head however refuses to let him sleep. Being the caring kind you are, you attempt to ease his mind multiple manners.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: Geralt, The Witcher, In Domestic Bliss... Kinda [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694326
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	Can't Sleep?

**Author's Note:**

> Are there typos???? Uh all i know is im 24/7 soft hours 4 geralt

Roach neighed in relief once reaching his stable. It was dead in the night. Geralt untied his reins and allowed the brown horse to be. The crickets were singing to the stars. The witcher’s silver hair was black with mud, blood, and other concoctions he cannot remember.

He enters his dark house; not a light was light whatsoever. He removed his shoes right in front of the door, knowing how mud trails make a certain someone go mad.

He walks towards his bathroom. He finds that the tub is filled with water. He feels its temperature; it’s still warm. He takes his garments off and submerges himself inside. He sighs.

He is tired. He closes his eyes and brings himself to relax. He feels like he is going to drift of to sleep any minute now. He feels… but can a Witcher really feel?

He opens his baggy eyes and washes himself off, head heavy but restless. He exits the tub and wipes himself off. He dries his hair and hangs the towel before travelling to his bed.

The cold threatens his nudity. He doesn’t care. He walks to his bed—occupied with a strong scent of peonies and your sleeping body. For once he wants to be so selfish and do what his clouded mind is screaming at him to do.

One of the colder nights indeed it was. Twas why you were curled up in the sheets like a newborn babe.

The witcher remembers Roach. Before going to bed, he gives his horse a blanket. Roach appreciates it.

Geralt goes under the sheets next to you. Part of him knows all it takes to wake you is to rearrange your position and press his cool skin against your warmer one. But damn, he is utterly weak for your lashes and lips still where they are.

So he lays on his edge stiffly and attempts to close his eyes.

But as quickly as a wasp, you shuffle in the sheets. You tumble and toss and turn and tug. It’s enough to punch his jaw. The witcher groans. He moves to avoid your violence.

Once you’ve settled, he think’s it’s over. But you claw to his side. Whimpering, Geralt allows himself to be captured. Next thing you do, you pull yourself over to his form and latch yourself on him.

He could say you fit against him perfectly, but that’s a lie. You fit awkwardly, as his arm is too high to be a pillow, and not nearly as soft enough.

Geralt raises his head uncomfortably and thinks: if I move you, _you’ll wake up_ , but if I don’t, you’ll wake up _with a stiff neck_. It’s obvious what he has to do.

“You smell like a cow,” you groggily mutter. _I guess fate decided quicker._

Geralt chuckles, “I took a bath.”

You crawl up to his chest, and move to nuzzle your nose in the crook of your neck. “Mmm,” you agree. “You smell like a cow.”

He doesn’t reply.

“You’re the sexiest cow I’ve ever seen.”

He wraps his arms around your back, “Thank you.”

For a while there is silence between you. Geralt listens to your heartbeat. You’re half-asleep.

“Tell me about your adventure, Witcher.”

He sighs, knowing your attempt to sooth him will be futile. He remembers how effective bedtime stories are for you. “I’d love to, but I’m selfish and would rather not bore you to sleep.”

You barely chuckle in your sleepiness. “No story of yours is boring.”

“Yes, but my ‘low, sultry’ voice is ‘too soothing’ for you. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

With that, you force yourself awake and look at him with hooded eyes. You prop yourself of his chest, “Can’t sleep?”

Guilt bites at him. It steals his reply.

Your eyes open wider, “answer me, Witcher.”

He sighs, “Forgive me.” He places his hand on your head, “go back to sleep.”

“Do not tell me what to do.”

Geralt sighs. _You’re awake now._

“What say you?” you mutter place a kiss on his chin. You grab his hand, placing it on your neck. “Did you miss me?”

He huffs in amusement. His hand on your neck travels to your jaw. His thumb rubds your skin. The other still on your back travels down to your thigh and fiddles with the hem of his dress shirt hanging on your frame. “I miss you even though you straddle me like so.”

His reply makes you break into laughter.

“You poor boy. Jaskier is rubbing off you.”

Geralt makes a sound, “please don’t mention the Bard’s name. I’ve had enough of him already.”

You smirk, “Are you jealous I spoke his name and not yours at all tonight, Witcher?”

“ _It makes me want to make you scream,”_ he grumbles.

You squeeze him with your legs and exhale, “Make me.”

Geralt brings both hands to your hips. His eyes drink in your form in this pale moonlight. You yawn and wipe your face, “Any day now, love. _This_ is boring me to death.”

He sighs, “As much as I’d love to wear you out ‘til you’re boneless, I know what you’re doing.”

Your posture falls. You blink slowly at him, eyes narrowing in exhaustion. The man pulls on the collar on you and you bring yourself down to him. Your hot breath kisses the crook of his neck, “What am I doing?”

“You’re trying to soothe your cow.”

“ _Hah,_ am I?”

“… cows can’t rely on their masters for everything, especially not if their mortal.”

The analogy makes you knit your brows. You pull yourself up again. “Cows have herders not masters.”

“Same difference.”

You narrow your eyes, “I want to note your analogy to Jaskier again, but before I do, did you just establish we have a master-slave relationship, _slave?”_

Geralt nearly feels physical pain from your words. _“I told you not to say his name.”_

You chuckle, “Oh, but I see you don’t deny yourself my slave.”

“And would you like me to establish how opposite that is?”

You throw your head back and laugh, “please. I have you wrapped around my littlest finger—toe finger.”

Geralt begins to shift. You giggle and kiss his neck, “you’re a grumpy cat, you are.”

Swiftly, Geralt has you on your back and positioned readily between your legs. Your hand grabs his face, and your lips steal his. “Take me, Geralt.”

He brings your hand to your thigh and tugs you upward, causing your head to hit the headboard. You squeak at the collision. “No,” Geralt says, “and sorry.”

With this newfound position, he rests his wight atop yours and brushes his nose and lips on the crook of your neck.. “If you really wanted me like this tonight, you wouldn’t be so tired and clothed.” He lifts his head and pulls your collar again so to rest his face on your bare skin. “In my clothes, no less.”

You bring your hand to the tips of his hair and adjust your lower halt slightly to make comfortable your position beneath him.

Geralt is alerted. “Am I too heavy?”

You shake your head, “I love being pressed up against you like this.” You cup his face in your hand, “Do you know why I wear your clothes?”

He releases a guttural noise, “You miss your cow.”

“Well, my cow is smart.”

“Your cow smells like cow.”

You laugh, “my cow is a six-foot-tall, silver haired, bulky, Witcher.”

He hums, “Your cow is sexy.”

Your belly vibrates beneath him, It wills Geralt to kiss your neck. “My cow is too big headed.”

“Well,” he says softly, “your cow _is_ six feet tall.”

There is another silence between you both.

You feel your eyes grow heavy again. You wake yourself up and moan, “Geralt, tell me about your adventure.” But he doesn’t reply. You crane your neck up to check if he is awake. You find yourself no need of it however when he snores lightly by your neck.

You kiss the crown of his head and close your eyes.


End file.
